Last Snow
by Va'Lithra
Summary: Cold, always cold. Shaking, shuddering, trembling. Her hands are numb, she cannot see. Her chest is heavy, gasping for each breath. She can't move, can't keep going. This is it, this is it. She cannot form the words, but I can hear it, I can see it. The snow traps her. Lost. Alone... Her end... and mine... (The slow building relationship of Cole and a Dalish herald, Va'Lithra)
1. Chapter 1

**LAST SNOW**

* * *

><p><strong>PROLOGUE<br>**

_"Regard your soldiers as your children,  
><em>_and they will follow you into the deepest valleys;  
>look on them as your own beloved sons,<br>and they will stand by you even unto death."_

* * *

><p>Short introductory chapter, all others will be 4000+ words in length.<p>

* * *

><p>The cold winds bit into their skin, the treacherous snow dragging their feet and making each step that much more unbearable. They struggled, their hearts battered just as much as their bodies, but they persisted. They persisted for the herald, who struggled beside them, and yet still promised salvation. The journeyed through the unknown, coping with the loss of their homes and their families because they believed with all their being that this stranger could lead them to safety. It was this devotion that had captivated him.<p>

Cole moved quickly among the injured, sick and dying, doing what he could to ease their unending misery. To the people, he was simply a memory of a memory, but the mages watched him wearily, cautious of his nature and true intent. The more powerful, the more disdain they held towards him, and he found little comfort in the collective mass of people, irritable and tired from a long journey to a destination unknown. And yet, the herald was different.

They had no time to speak, the closest he'd come to contacting her were looks across an endless expanse of faces, but he didn't miss a word. He heard her gentle tone, scolding those who wished him ill, those who called him 'thing', 'monster', 'demon', and an unbearable amount of other degrading names. She defended him so strongly, and yet she knew nothing about him, a trust that was deemed naïve and foolish among all but her closest circle of friends.

The spirit suspected them both to be true, and yet he was being drawn towards her to hear answers, but he'd yet to find the questions. He wondered idly if all her followers felt the same, or if he was simply entranced by a soul he could not easily read. He had come to help a cause he believed in, and now he found himself lending a devotion to the herald that she seemed to command. Her presence was the strongest among them and whether the people knew it or not, they certainly seemed to be reacting in kind.

* * *

><p>The nights were especially harsh, and the snow claimed many of the weak and dying. Cole did not feel the cold as strongly as they did, but the gasping thoughts left in their wake had embedded themselves in his mind. He wandered among the tents, slipping in to comfort those in their final moments before moving on. He could do little for many, but some were saved, extra blankets or a spot closer to the dwindling fires. If he hadn't heard them, they would have died, and it gave him no small amount of relief to know his presence had prevented their final moments being ones surrounded by ice and misery.<p>

As the storm grew more treacherous the people moved into their shelters, the fires abandoned as they struggled to remain more than flickering ambers. Cole had done we he could, those who would die tonight had already passed, or would pass soon, and those that would live would do so thanks to the talented healers and his brief intervention. He still wandered, passing tents and stopping, just to make sure all was okay, before he moved on to the next, and the next. He could hear all their voices, not just the sick, but they all needed guidance, and they all looked to the herald.

He found that many of their saddened cries begged her for their help. Until a voice broke through the rest, and something in the distance caught his eye. A small red blip in the landscape.

He made his way over carefully, the wind slowing his approach and the snow gripping his shoes. The voices faded away behind him, but there was another voice, a voice that was not really a voice, ahead. It was loud and desperate, like a whisper that echoed, and he could see a great many things he knew not to be real, and yet they were. Finally, he stood before it. The heralds tent, and within, the herald.

He stood there for some time, the veil here seemed distorted and unusually thin, but it was not disjointed as fluctuations in the veil typically were. No, the veil here was in harmony with something, it flowed like silk, it whispered emotions of contentment and trust, the likes of which the spirit had never known, and all the while he heard something, like a voice in the distance, but it spoke no words, it spoke pictures. Glimpses, gone as quickly as they came, the voice was talking, sharing, but it wasn't. Cole was captivated.

He saw blades of grass, a caterpillar. A bright sun hiding behind clouds. A bowl of herbs sitting on the earth, surrounded by white flowers. Hands wrapped around a baby bird and an arm outstretched for its landing many months later. He saw blood, a river of red, and he saw reflected in it the face of the herald, weary and sad. Twisting, distorting. Bad. Lost.

_Screaming, terror, a beating heart surrounded by desperation. Fear, so much fear. Armies of Templars, red, red, red. So much red. Blood and bone, faces in the ashes, fire. Blinding, painful. Lost, alone, no one. Can't hear._

Cole stumbled backwards, falling into the snow as the visions of war and destruction seemed to shudder around him, latching onto his consciousness. The herald shuddered beyond the red fabric, a whimper that seemed to draw the sympathies of creatures of the fade. They whispered pictures of warmth, flowers, halah, but it did nothing to stop her frantic breaths.

Cole understood now. Understood how the world seemed to wrap around her. Just a woman, facing something beyond her, and yet the only hope, the only salvation this world had left. She was dreaming of the end.

Her end.

There was no comfort for such a vision, the best they could do was support her, and prepare her.

Cole stood, he was unwelcome here, this was not his place, and with a final glimpse of the fluttering red fabric he returned to tend to the wounded.

* * *

><p><strong>Read and REVIEW! Your approval gives me inspiration to write more!<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**LAST SNOW**

* * *

><p>Vast, infinite, quiet but the sounds of grieving families, empty save the lost, marching in search of home. Cole loved the snow, but he hated it. Its voice was like an angel as it sung, but the storms yelled far louder, and the ice told stories of times frozen in place, echoes. Uncomfortable in the mind's eye, pictures, glimpses of the lost and the abandoned. It chilled the spirit to his core.<p>

He watched from a distance as the herald marched onward, he stopped when she stopped, and carried on as she proved her strength and determination in the worst of odds. He was captivated, in awe of this woman, no more so than any fascinating thing, but beyond that something compelled him, and he wasn't sure if it was merely curiosity or an inner knowing that something was different. Something was special.

The elf, Solas, walked beside her, he left paw prints in the snow that no one noticed, when he spoke Cole could see his teeth, but they did not frighten him. He liked Solas, he was… Nice. He liked a lot of people here, the strong ones, the ones that changed the music, and didn't conform to it. They left different colours, but they couldn't see that, either. The inquisitor, though, was by far the brightest. She burnt, she glowed, she was special. She made the terrified screams bearable.

They walked for days, the bitter cold claimed many lives and Cole made their moments as peaceful as he could. He hated that they suffered so, but there was little he could do for many of them. The ones that fought the strongest hurt him the most, because they weren't ready to die, and Cole could do nothing for them. He tried.

Now, many of the weakest had been lost, and the grief of their loved ones was almost crippling to the spirit. He wore a mask of indifference, and those who could see him hated him more for being so emotionless, but he wasn't.

The snow slowed their steps with each passing moment, cold gripped the living and they fought weakness, willing themselves to continue. Each person trapped in their own mind, waging personal wars only Cole could hear. They were tired, too tired, their faith kept them strong but their bodies would fail. They couldn't keep going, they had to rest but there was no place safe, no place protected, so they continued.

The climb was too steep, the path too long. Their steps faltered, slipping, sliding, landing in the wrong places. He swooped in under an elderly man, catching him before he fell, possibly plummeting to his death over the side of the mountain, he was safe now.

"Thank-you." The man whispered, tired, weary.

"You… Are welcome." Cole replied gently. The man was fearful of him, but not, confused, uncertain, but trusting. He'd come to serve, to assist, to stop the screams, the horrible, horrible noises that grasped at his mind like sickly grey-skinned hands reaching from a bog. It was overwhelming, suffocating, it dragged him deeper.

"They're scared, they want to go home but they can't, there is no home left, what will they do, how will they survive? The world is ending, the sky is crumbling, and the demons-" Cole caught his slip too late, the man stared with wide eyes, Cole could see his own reflected, similar, the same, but not really.

Then they softened. "You're a strange boy." The man said, gaining the strength to carry himself once more. Cole was hesitant to let him go.

"Am I?" he asked, curious. The man chuckled.

"Indeed you are."

They walked in silence for a short while before the man spoke again. "Are you a demon? He asked, cautiously."

"No."

"Then what are you?"

"I'm Cole."

The man smiled. "Well then, It's nice to meet you, Cole."

* * *

><p>The skies were dark, drenched in navy paint while a million eyes peered down restlessly, blinking faster than the eye could track, twinkling. Cole sighed deeply, his own eyes captivated with the beauty above them. So bright, blindingly so, and they sung such pretty tunes. He found himself humming along with them, but he quickly fell silent at the rush of disapproval from those who could hear him. He glanced around shyly before making them forget, quickly moving closer to the herald and her comrades. They made no notice of him as he tilted his head this way and that. Listening to their private conversations.<p>

He could hear their worries and concerns but found that most trusted in the heralds leadership, and it gave them no small amount of relief. They were uncertain, yes, but not lost like the people further back. It occurred to the spirit this was as close to the herald as he'd been since they fled haven. He moved closer, curious, she vibrated, trembled, unclear but focused. He liked her sound, it was… Comforting. The others heard it too, but they didn't. Their souls heard.

She was warm and bright, she stood out, her steps left colours- "Excuse me?" Came a gentle voice, firm, bold, but soft around the edges. Cole tilted his head slightly, peeking up from beneath his hat, his hands clasping defensively before him. The herald regarded him with deep blue eyes, like ink and oil.

"I'm sorry." He said quietly, slowing his pace.

The herald stopped, and her followers all turned their attention to him. He felt small. "My steps leave colours?"

"I- Yes. In the snow. When you walk." He gestured at her feet.

"I don't see anything." She said, more curious than anything.

"I'd be surprised if you did." Cole replied honestly. The herald made a soft Hmm sound before turning around again, waving her comrades to follow. Cole stayed in his place, waiting for others to pass, before the woman stopped again, glancing over her shoulder and giving him an unusual look. He stared at her until a smile crossed her features and she waved once more.

Cole looked behind him, but when he turned around the herald still stared at him expectantly. He made a step towards them, which seemed to please the woman, and she turned away to continue onward.

He followed close behind the group after that, slipping away only to help those who needed him.

* * *

><p><strong>Read and Review<strong>

This chapter is much shorter than I expected, I'm still learning how to write him properly

and I feel like I'm not quite getting it. Something is wrong, different, almost but not quite.

Anyway, let me know what you think my weak points would be, I really want to get his

character right without it being to hard to follow, or too easy, if that makes sense.

I guess something just feels off, but not sure what it is.

anyway, hope you like it so far, regardless! Thanks for the reviews, favorites and follows!


	3. Chapter 3

Cold, alone, disconnected. Cole watched with a hesitant interest at the way the inquisitor moved, spoke and interacted with the world around her. People were lonely, isolated, they couldn't touch the colours in the sky or speak a million words in one. They heard no other heartbeat, felt not the touch of a million minds, all active, seeking, sharing. A whole torn apart, something complete but fragmented. The world felt to him like something incomplete. Unmoving, unforgiving, quiet.

He often tried to communicate with the things around him, but found the closer he was drawn to the world of the living, the more empty the world felt. Things hummed, bubbled with somethings that struck as nothings in this world. He told his laces to tie, but their hum did not change, locked and frozen. In the fade, they had sung back. They whispered to him, showed him things, they were as close to friends as he'd been before. Now they were silent. Lost. Not there, well, at least not properly.

People in general didn't notice, they moved things themselves, reserved, alone. The inquisitor, though… She was the same but different enough that she could tell. Distantly, passively aware. As though it took a moment for her to adjust to something that was non-existent. Snow screamed underfoot and her body trembled, she heard it but she didn't. Understood but not aware. Cole could see the different, the colors unknown to her eyes. It was beautiful.

It was for this reason that he'd often taken to staring too long. He hadn't come to understand the ways of people yet, he learnt more each day but there were so many rules to learn. He often made mistakes. Sometimes the herald would look at him with eyes that said no more, and he stopped. Then sometimes she'd look at him and her tune would change. They didn't speak but both seemed drawn, curiosity for the unknown, for they were both different to the rest. Cole knew it, but he wasn't sure she did.

* * *

><p>People struggled to walk beside her as the days passed, they were tired and scared, the faith they had the only thing driving them on. They were barely alive and it burnt Cole to his core. It was crushing, crippling. Too much to bare. He didn't think to ask if anyone would understand because he knew they didn't, and he didn't care to ask. Sometimes he thought it though.<p>

The wind howled in their ears for the longest part of the morning, today had started slowly and people had not the drive to push, they merely ambled in unison after their leader. Her eyes were drooping and her legs shook but she hadn't faltered, not yet, but she would.

"No I won't" she whispered to the winds, her lips dulled in the cold.

"Yes." Cole replied, tilting his head slightly to better see her. "You will. Everyone does."

She didn't look at him but she struggled to swallow. His heart fell at her weakness. "Don't be afraid." He replied quickly.

"I'm not." She said gently, finally looking at him properly. Her lashes were as white as the snow. Cole ducked his head.

"No, you're not." He agreed. "You have nothing to lose. Silent nights under the stars, a ribbon around her wrist. She smells like honey, how does she keep finding it." He exhaled slowly, oblivious to her narrowed eyes.

* * *

><p>Cole followed in her shadow loyally, interested, curious, but unsure. He didn't say it, but from time to time he heard her whispers, such a long way from home. She'd always look back hesitantly and his eyes would meet hers for the briefest of moments, and then everything that had been open like a frequently read book would disappear. Her lids would droop, and her expression faltered, revealing all the weakness she hid, and then she'd fix it, appear unbroken. Perfect and crystal clear, but not. She was the only person that had ever been able to do that. Just, stop, clear everything and leave this space, endless, infinite white. She was hiding. Cole knew, and she knew he knew.<p>

As the group travelled the skies cleared briefly, allowing them a welcome glimpse of the sun. Spirits were low but the warmth helped and Cole was happy to guide the saddest into the brightest spots. He saw a smile, the first one in far too long. It was unique, precious, almost gone but enough left to say 'I don't want to be lost anymore'. He smiled back, but they did not see.

She saw. He blinked curious eyes at hers, and she smiled, too. He liked her smile, warm and bright, like summers sun hiding behind grey clouds. Too intense to stare at directly but calmed, cooled by those around her. She reminded him of dusty smells, dryness on his tongue and sweat on his brow, she did not fit the ice and snow, it strangled the warmth of her. It was sad.

The elf passed her, taking the lead without a word. No one took any notice, but the Herald turned away, having heard something Cole did not. They disappeared quickly over a mountain of snow and cold and though he was curious to know, he did not follow.

He did not need to. There was a shout and a moment of uncertainty, a quiet and then noise, too much noise. They cheered and waved and expressed more life than any day prior to his knowing. They had found it, and finally Cole felt the ache on his chest lighten, and the tears in their eyes dried long enough to praise their fortunes.

Haven stood beyond, decrepit and well-aged. Cole was sure it had seen its fair share of wars, it was weak but it could be made strong under the supervision of the inquisition. He told himself this could be home, safe and sound, if they let it. He'd been called thing, monster, demon. Too many times to count. He did not think it, but the herald could easily call him dangerous and all would have been for naught. No, not quite, he'd helped lots already. He just wanted to help more.

It was still some days before they reached the ancient gates of the fortress, and it took many hours for the weak and sickly to push through its locks and bolts and finally enter the grounds. Cole didn't waste any time preparing an area for the ill, wounded and dying, he heard the herald not far away, a speech, true words, trust, and safety. She inspired.

* * *

><p>They spoke, a conversation, long but not too long. He told her about him, about them. She wasn't mad or scared. She watched him with honest eyes, kind, welcoming, but he was hurting. Cole turned to the man with obvious intent but she stopped him, softly.<p>

"You can kill him, and I won't stop you, but in the end you really don't know, and it shouldn't be anyone's choice to decide if a person lives or dies."

She was right.


End file.
